Realistic Toddler Craft Roadtest – Cloud Dough

So today we made a mistake cloud dough.

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My understanding of the recipe that I neglected to check before starting was half corn flour, half shaving cream. Easy. Ease of recipe is a sure way to get me to try shit. Those proportions  produced this crumbling mess but I kept at it. We added hands in the hope that it might be better than the spoon.

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???

Nope

What would you do? Me, I’d say fuck it and empty in a can.

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This is absolutely nothing like a cloud. This should be renamed solid clag dough to redistribute people’s very excited expectations. It was thick and gross and I’m thinking fuck me I don’t want this shit to exist let alone be in my washing machine.

We did have fun in the end. It was shit and absolutely nothing like I expected but it kept a 2 year old and a 25 year old entertained for a good hour.

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It was really annoying to keep having to wipe my hands so that I could take pictures. And my kid doesn’t even smile. Too busy.

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Mish got involved without really wanting to. (Without me really wanting him to.

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The best part, really, was the clean up.

So was it worth it? Probably. If only because it kept us busy for a whole morning. Would I do it again? Probably not. It was nothing like I expected and wasn’t really all that fun for Eliza. I mean she played with it but she would have played with shaving cream and corn flour separately and would have made less of a mess while having the same amount of fun.

Was it worth getting it on my Bugaboo pram and Chuck and Taz liner? Nah.

2/5 stars. Would recommend to dickheads that I hate.

posted on the go; ignore mistakes

The Day My Son Almost Killed Me

Hamish is teething, and Hamish bites. As in bites my nipples when I feed him. If you don’t know what that feels like, have someone bite your nipple. Someone without morals or comprehension of what is and is not appropriate.

Go now. I’ll wait.

Anyway, being the multitasking mum that I am, I was feeding Hamish while getting ready to go out this morning. I used to dream of the day Eliza would have enough hair to put in a ponytail. Now it’s a pain and a chore. Something seemingly frivolous, but she looks like a homeless orphan when it’s down.

So I’m feeding Hamish while brushing Eliza’s hair and I have a hair tie between my teeth. One of those plastic rubbery ones which, in hindsight, is just a bad idea.

Hamish bites me. Sharp intake of breath. Rubber band in my throat.

Gag. Panic. Choke.

Long story short I almost died and Eliza is getting new hair ties.

posted on the go; ignore mistakes